Worthy
by Zo3ycasaNova
Summary: Loki is brought back to Asgard after the attack on New York and sentenced to solitary confinement to think about what he's done. Maybe after all this time he has just been misunderstood? What really happened to make him want to attack New York in the first place? No one understood him, misread all his intentions up until he was nearly gone. Could that damage ever be undone?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey feedback is greatly appreciated this is my first chapter for this story and its more of a past reflection kind of piece up to a certain point so bare with me. I think it could have great potential. I kind of sped wrote this in like two days so pardon any errors there it might have. I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to writing more chapters. Think of this one as more of a draft. If you like it will write more, plain and simple just the way I like it.**

It was quiet on Asgard. Once the commotion on Midgard ceased and Loki was apprehended everything sort of settled. The bridge was in the process of being fixed and the Allfather was proud in his sons ability to carry out the mission he'd been given, along with bringing his brother home. As a reward he allowed him the time to go off and enjoy his time with the Earth lot while his brother was sentenced to rot. After all that is what he deserved for his despicable acts against humanity. He'd been know to do many things but mindless killing was not one of them.

Even Thor was surprised by this behavior, it was unlike him. But what could he do? As far as he knew Loki hated him and would refuse any act of kindness. He'd take it as weakness and end up making a mockery of anyone who tried, so he figured it was best not to even bother. He thought he had lost his brother for good and next thing he knew was going after one of the infinity stones, which could never be a good combination. He loved his brother down to his slithery core but this time he'd gone too far. Something needed to change. Hopefully his sentence would give him a chance to think about the harm he'd caused.

The last time he saw his younger brother was when he brought him back to Asgard to be punished for his crimes. With no trial he was left with his father and he placed him in a cell. It was a really nice cell one that looked more like a hotel room rather than an actual prison but he was confined none the less. He'd been in saluted since then which would mark his third day.

Thor returned to Earth for a much needed vacation as well as clean up. He liked his new unlikely friends; if it wasn't for his troubled brother he would have never met them. Also without their help he wouldn't have been able to defeat the Chitauri. The new found heroes were throwing a huge get together at the tower to celebrate their first victory. He figured this would a good time to get to know one another without the need to fight for their lives. They could just enjoy themselves and have a good time, not having to worry about where Loki would strike next. The ordeal had finally come to an end.

The lone prince sat in solitude. In his private cell away from all the other war criminals, his family still held a place for him in their hearts even if he was adopted. His crimes were serious none the less and he couldn't receive any special treatment even if he was the former prince of Asgard. In a way Odin thought it would be better for him to be away from nastier marauders, when it only added to his loneliness.

Loki shivered at the thought of what he'd done; he never meant to cause harm to others. He wasn't like that honestly. He didn't even like going with Thor and the others to battle. He would much rather practice magic that could be used to build and heal other, not just destroy everything in sight. If anyone bothered to ask they would have known how peaceful he was. "How did I end up here..?"

"All I wanted was what was best for Asgard. Now all I can do is sit here in this putrid cell." Loki uttered silently to no one but himself. Sitting in solitude because of what he did. Damn those creatures for controlling him the way they did and no one cared to listen. He sighed, feeling weighed down by the universe. It's no use no one cares anymore as if they ever did. No one knew what went awry other than him.

He crossed his arms together and rested his chin on them. He felt empty inside, it had been a long time coming after all. Slowly he was losing himself the way everyone else was losing him. He never wanted to be this way. The way he pictured it in his mind all through child hood was he and Thor would work hand and hand to maintain the glory they'd been raised with. It didn't matter which one of them would become king they would each do their part. There would always be sibling rivalry between them it was natural. But he never expected to be out casted and alone. He began to retrace where exactly everything went wrong.

It all started when Thor was to be crowned. He boasted and carried on like the day couldn't come any sooner. Then some frost giants managed to get into the castle and everything was put on hold. Arguing erupted between both parties. The king and the prideful son went back and forth over something that was seemingly pointless. Thor unable to let to disturbance go, deciding it was time to take action and attack. His pride and egotistic tendencies made him blind to what was really important, maintaining the peace. Turning the other cheek and letting bygones be bygones, attacking the frost giants when not everything was brought to light was foolish. The act by few does not determine the lot of them.

Loki was the one who let those few in the castle that day to cause disarray and miner destruction, how was he supposed to know that Thor would come with such a carless course of action. He had always been the kind of man whom when their mind was set on something nothing would be able to stop them. There was also that one trait the two of them happened to share even if they weren't blood related; they were both persuasive when they needed to be.

Going against father's better judgment he did the unthinkable anyway and travelled to Jotunhem. He nearly got his people killed and setting forth another war when a very delicate peace treaty was in place after so many years. This was not the desired actions of the future King. So he did what was necessary and banished him, it was the only way he'd learn, through tough love. That's when everything went wrong. Everyone saw the King's decision as foolhardy, that Thor's actions were just. They started to blame Loki for Thor's fate as if he forced him to act. Because he was so different and wanted to be king as well as if he knew the end result would be his banishment.

Loki felt like there was something off about him ever since they returned from that place. When one of those monsters touched the arm of Volstagg it was instantly frost bitten and useless, but Loki's arm was touch it merely turn the bluish color of a frost giant. This raised quite a few questions that have yet to be answered. He went to Odin's weapons vault to prove this theory he held in his mind. The same artifact the intruders came to claim, the casket of ancient winters that held the power of the frost giants, would show him for what he was.

With both hands he held the strange blue artifact and stared inventively at it until he heard Odin's power voice telling him to stop before his curiously brought him further. It was too late, he had the device in his hand and as he turned to face the king his true self was revealed to him. Terrified and hurt he demanded an explanation. Odin then told him he was found as an infant, abandoned and left to die in the midst of war. At first he thought of him as a way to unite the two worlds once and for all. But after a while he'd grown attached to the child, teaching him as one of his own his son.

Loki was unable to comprehend this as the truth making sense over the fact he was always second best to Thor in every aspect whether it be to his friends or his father. He learned what exactly he was, just another one of those monsters they feared as children, another stolen relic that had some other hidden purpose. There would be no way Thor would ever accept him for what he was anymore. Even as children he swore to whip out every last one of those creatures.

It all made sense now he was a hidden burden to the family, in his mind he was disgusted for what he was. He loved them even if he was treated as the black sheep. Odin tried his best to dismiss any of his feelings of self loathing but was unable as he fell into an unexpected slumber. Loki felt utterly betrayed and afflicted by the trust but as his father slipped into a comatose state he couldn't help but feel worried. Even after feeling the way he did he still cared for his family even if they weren't blood related. It was a cruel irony to know his true origin, he couldn't be able live with it so he tried his best to deny that truth the only way he could. By keeping it a secret that only he and the king and queen knew.

With the king in no condition to rule, the burden of the thrown fell to Loki. In his mind it was a great responsibility and he couldn't take it lightly the way Thor nearly did. His first duty would be to clean up the mess his brother created. The truce between Jotunhem could not be broken no matter the cost.

Once he took thrown the warriors three and lady Sif came with a request for his father. They were completely unaware of his state or the fact that Loki was now in temporary command. They asked him if it would be ok to bring back his brother Thor from his banishment. Loki denied, stating that it was the wish of the king that it would be foolhardy for his first command to be to undo the kings last one. The warriors left his presents taking his cold-heartedness as jealously for his brother when his judgment was justified.

His once friends thought of him as cruel and unfair, they would not listen to his word as king because he refused to bring Thor home. In a way it was to not undo Odin's wish but also Loki wanted to be acknowledged, something he never received all those years ago. He was seen as the misfit child that could never live up to expectations, whether it be fighting or otherwise he was always second best to Thor. He finally got long awaited attention he'd craved even if he was seen as the villain.

Loki had a far better order he wanted to go enact. The first thing he wanted to do was prove himself a man of Asgard by tricking Laufey and his men into the castle. This way he could stay them once and for all in front of his adoptive parents. He wanted to prove where his heart was even if he was on Jotunhem. He killed his real father to get the approval of his false one. The second part of his plan was to destroy the frosted wasteland once and for all. Anything he could do to prevent another senseless war, even if Thor were to return.

No one trusted his judgment and eventually led to betrayal, the four of them went to Earth to retrieve Thor so Loki sent the Destroyer in order to delay their attempts until Loki plan was put into motion. He couldn't risk Thor sending countless troops to their deaths because of his poor judgment. He wanted to make sure he could carry out his duty before then. In the end it didn't work, Thor returned and in a last ditch effort destroyed the Bifrost before it was able to tear that world to shreds. Even if it knew he wouldn't be able to see that woman again.

He ran the details over and over in his head and no matter how he looked at it no one was going to trust his judgment. He heavily contemplated the past before everything went hazy. Before he let go; not wanting to go any further than the brawl with his brother. That was all he could handle. He placed his hands to his head as the memories flooded back as if they'd just happened, every detail seeming to have a single common theme.

'Why was everyone against me? It's like I've never had a single person that trusted me anymore. I don't blame them after what I've done, but it's like ever since the beginning of I've had no one, everyone just thought of me as nothing more than a pest. They never even gave me a chance. It all started at his coronation, if I wasn't so careless and jealous none of this would have happened. I would still be the same blindly following younger brother that I've always been.'

How is this any different? I suppose I have all the attention I could ever ask for now, the name Loki would be known threw out the nine realms. The greedy war criminal who bit off more than he could chew and ended up getting beat down by a couple of mortals. That's never what I wanted. Any of this, it was only a well placed misfortune. I seem to attract that sort of thing, along with bad company.

"What happened to make me this way? Why am I always the one to be dealt the sort hand? It's not fair. I was the only one that listened to the King, I didn't betray anyone and in the end I was forgotten. All my good intentions and where did that get me? Betrayal… I thought they were my friends too, not only Thor's." He looked up to the white tiles on the ceiling for answers, hoping one little detail of his experience would suffice. His face was sorrowful and full of doubt, yet he continued to look back.

…

As soon as Thor was exiled they looked to me to blame since I was the one whom told Heimdall to inform father of our plan. If it wasn't for his interference we would have perished. His insolence nearly set forth a second war between Jotunhem and Asgard. I was given the thrown when Asgard needed a King; they were the ones who committed treason.

I loved my brother, more then I let on but I respected the Kings decision. Thor needed to learn he was thickheaded and not fit to take the responsibility of sitting on that thrown. But I never meant any harm to the one's I cared about but my word is meaningless, only to be heard as the silver tongued liar. I just wish the other could see the light in me and not just the dark. I mean well I really do but no one could see it. They take me as the jealous and greedy brother that only cares for himself. The way I was raised was to believe a Kings duty is to his people. Not to himself. Thor didn't understand that. All he wanted was the glory of battle. Father saw that. I saw that. If only everyone else could see it too.

In the end he returned, changed but blinded none the less. They didn't understand. All I wanted was what was best, but none of them could see it. I was the bad guy. I was always the bad guy, the silver tongued liar that stood in the shadow of the golden child. But I'm not just that. I'm not a cheat, a liar, or a thief.. I'm not a bad person. It's just.. No one understood.

He came back and I was the villain. There were traders all around me, not a single person believed in me anymore. Although my intentions were justified my actions couldn't be any farther from the fact. Destroying Jotunhem could have solved all of our issues, no more fear of war. We'd finally be rid of those monsters from are nightmares once and for all. I wanted to prove myself to father, that I wasn't one of them. In the end I ended up becoming something far from a frost giant and even farther from an Asgardian. I became a monster in my own sense, a hurt and vengeful one. I didn't know where I belonged. I was the bad guy.

I challenged my brother knowing I could never hurt him. I loved him with all my heart even if I had been living in the shadow of his greatness. He had to learn that what I needed to do was for the greater good, if things had escalated any further there would be need to send troops to do battle. Countless lives that would be lost in vain, why would we do that when it would be safer just to eliminate the threat altogether? Hopefully with time he would figure it out on his own. I could only hope. If he ever wanted to be a good king he would need to be able to make tough choices like that in order to protect the people.

He made his decision. By now I've come to realize the error of my ways, the easy the thing to do wasn't always the right thing to do. Our people would be spared but at the cost of an entire world that was not involved. No true king could ever be that heartless. The idea of being a monster has driven Loki to this point, where his judgment was a blind as the rage that fuelled it.

We were left hanging from the bridge, no one but Thor preventing me from falling into oblivion. No one understood me but I saw the look in his eyes, he still believed in me but only a bit. There was no place for me in Asgard anymore. So I let go. Not knowing where I would fall to but I didn't care. How was I supposed to know I would end up at that place, with that tyrant.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok so It seems like there are a quite a few interested in the story. I have to warn you that this chapter is a bit graphic and contains self harm. Don't worry more is to come. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy :)**

…

Loki's mind was running a mile a minute. His thoughts mixed together and confused. Some were a blur and others clear as day. They were becoming more pursuant then he would have wanted, seemingly eating away at him like a poison. He hated to reminisce about it, but in a way remembering the past was comforting. Back when everything was routine and normal. It was the only way he could temporarily forget the rest.

Before everything spiraled out of control and steadily got worse. It didn't matter what he did the outcome was the same up until the very end when his mind drew a blank. That's when the life he wanted to go back to was gone forever. The quarrel with his brother and the others was an easier dilemma. Still he didn't wish to repeat it. Even so he'd rather relive it over and over again than one more time with the horrible man.

He clenched his head with his hands in attempt to prevent his mind from reanimating his image. His wasn't able to, no matter how hard he gripped his hair the memories he tried so hard to repress were continuing to flood in. The last comforting image was the look his brother had in his eyes, deep blue like an ocean and full of concern. Thor never wanted any of his to happen; he didn't want to lose his brother. In the end Loki ended up the way Thor was in the beginning; carless, arrogant and blind.

That look was the only proof that he still held a place in his heart, at least then, but now it was uncertain if there was anything left. After what he did there would be a special place in hell for him. He let go and the image slowly faded into darkness. There was nothing keeping him from moving forward and just forgetting the monster he was.

Then there was the disapproval of father. 'I thought I was doing right by destroying Jotunhem. There would be no need for war when the problem no longer existed. But I guess I was the fool.' He showed an almost hysterical smile as he cracked open his puffy emerald green eyes now welting with fresh tears.

"It wasn't my fault.. wasn't.. it wasn't.." Loki repeated over and over again trying to make himself believe that one simple truth that seemed a lie. Everything was going so fast, he was hardly able to keep up. His thoughts raced, flashing back and forth until they had been replaced by worse ones. He couldn't take it anymore. He gripped his head vigorously in order to make it stop, but to no prevail. He was done with remembering the past, it only brought with it shame and heartache.

Regret among all other. His nails dug into the sides of his skull, hoping the pain would drown out this feeling. Not all the pain and suffering he would bring upon himself would ever be enough to atone for the damage he'd caused. If anything he'd gotten use to that certain feeling of anguish. He'd nearly become tolerant of physical pain. Thanos made sure of that.

He paused for a second, that name rung in his head like a distant screech from an unknown assailant. His very existence made Loki shiver. How could such a monster even exist? Had he known he would have been pick up by that monster he sooner let Thor finish him off, although he probably wouldn't have been able to knowing him. He was supposed to of met his demise and yet he managed to find something so utterly worse, a living hell.

With the weight of emotion on his shoulders he couldn't sit still any longer. He threw his fists down to the table and slid the wooden chair he'd been sitting on out from underneath. Knocking it to the floor with the force he exerted, his mind was beginning to turn against him. Memories darted back and forth quicker than he could manage. An iniquitous laughter rang in his ears; it was all too familiar. The image of his face was perfectly clear in his mind. That diabolical smile he held every time he would cauterize another part of his body. The words he spoke were as effective as the dagger he used to glide threw his thin flesh. "Damn that bastard.."

He picked up the chair and hurled it at the force field which held him in the tiny room; pieces of splintering shards flew in every direction. By now destruction was what he knew best. It was a way to vent his frustrations, but by now he found it only dug the wound deeper as to speak. This hatred was what he held on to. As much as he wished refused to remember he it was inevitable. The image stuck like a fly on sticky paper, he would do anything to make that monster vanish from his memory. It would eventually lead to his self destruction if it had not already. He looked at the mess he'd made and in the end it did not make him feel any better. All he was good for was wrecking things, causing mischief and other atrocities.

He turned and punched the white wall behind him, feeling every bit of force as he drove it into the hard surface. He wasn't sure if he had broken his hand or not. But by this time he didn't really care. Harming himself was the punishment he deserved, to feel some of the pain he'd caused others. His father refused to torture his son although Loki had renounced that title when all of this started. So much he wished he could take everything back, he would live in the shadow for the rest of his life in silence if at all possible, blissful ignorance. Why did they care, it would have been easier if Odin had let him die long ago, at least then none of his suffering would of occurred.

He held his fist against the wall and hung his head, his long black hair covering his features. He sent countless people to their graves, leading families to ruin the way he led his. In his mind any self infliction was a small retribution for his selfishness. He twisted his hand against the wall until blood ran down from the spot. After a moment he pulled it back and studied it.

Bits of skin were hanging off and blood was oozing from several different places. He lifted his head up to look at the dented surface. Although his over grown bangs covered a good portion of his face he was able to make out a couple thin cracks underneath the red blood and flesh that covered the hole. He wiped the back of his hand on his black pants and sighed. He could punch this wall a thousand times and it would never make him feel any better.

'So long I have prayed for death while under Thanos's watch. What seemed like endless days of torture ultimately turned into a series of relentless brain washing. I thought myself free for a little while but it was too good to be true. They called me an ally but I ended up becoming a puppet controlled by that heartless tyrant. Forced to do horrible things to innocent people and willed to enjoy every second of it. There was an uncontrollable urge to puke every step of the way. Solemnly wishing that one of those humans would be strong enough to end this suffering.' The scars on his back ached along with the memory.

" _How gracious of the Asgardian king to let someone of the likes of you fall into my hands. You will serve us well."_ Those words bellowed deep within him, he would do anything to make that voice stop. Fueled by anger Loki kicked the glass table up and hit the ceiling. Shards of glass and wood rained down to the floor. He held his head in frustration, his hair more or less a tangled mess by this point. Sweat riddled his forehead and ran down his cheek, soaking in the collar of his tunic.

There was only so much he could take, without a second thought he reached down a picked up one of the glass shards. He squeezed it in his hand tighter than he thought, cutting his hand but he didn't let his grip falter. Thick red blood ran down to the floor and pooled around his foot. "The pain would take it all away.. At least for a little while.."

He stared at the shard in his hand while his mind slowly drifted back, finally drawing a blank. Against his usual judgment he thrust it into his side. He let out a faint gasp not fully realizing just what exactly he'd done. It was a familiar feeling, a moment of excruciating pain that after awhile faded into an almost relaxing feeling. It gave him that subtle urge to let go, to just give in to the bliss.

But his body was stubborn, even when his mind had come to peace with the idea of death his body continued to fight. Perhaps deep within the broken down man that thought remained, it was just pushed so far down below the surface that he'd over looked it. That or he never really cared enough to resurface it. Living had become too hard. I mean wouldn't it be simpler if he was gone? After all it would solve everyone's problems.

This was just a taste of what he had endured. Coming to know the peace in the burning sensation his body gave him. The memory was the real torture. Anything he could do to distract himself from that truth was worth it. His body would heal but his mind never will.

"This is what I deserve.." He absentmindedly twisted the shard even further into his flesh, dulling empty pain was beginning to be drowned out by the sharp physical one. He was unsure if he'd hit anything vital. Ultimately he didn't really mind, I'm this very moment the only thing he wanted was to forget. He blacked out for a second and stumbled back into the wall. He hit it rather hard with his other side. His legs were feeling weaker by the second so the wall became sort of a crutch for him. He slid down until he was met with the cold tile floor.

He blinked his eyes slowly in attempts to clear his vision which was becoming more and more hazy. His lids were sticking together and he could feel himself fading slightly, a few spots worked their way into the not so clear version of his cell. His breathing slowed and calmed, no longer panicked. His eyes darted around the small room seemingly looking for something, or someone. Loki was a man of habit and when he felt pain there usually was more to come.

He needed to remember where he was. Perhaps this wasn't such a great idea after all. While attempting to flee his pondering mind he may very well send himself spiraling into his troubled subconscious. An image of a woman appeared before him. Whether it was a figment of his imagination or some otherworldly ghost that'd come to haunt him he had no idea. She was quite beautiful but otherwise unfamiliar. "Who.. Who are you?" He let out as a near whisper.

"You are strong Loki, you will overcome this misfortune." She held a hand out as if reaching for the broken man. His face was confused however he returned the favor as he stretched his clean hand towards her weakly. It seemed to tremble like it was being pulled down by the force of gravity. He nearly touched hers and then she vanished, leaving him alone again. 'I guess I am going crazy.' For the first time since being locked away a weak smile perched itself on his lips, part way out of hysteria and another relief. He was going crazy.

Thick blood ran out from between his fingers and saturated a good portion of his clothing. His eyes were becoming blanker by the second; his focus was only on the pain in his side. Slowly it lulled him into a deep darkness. Everything went limp as his head hung slightly to the side. All was quite except for light breathing.


	3. Chapter 3

"Goodbye brother." Loki let go not knowing where he would end up but he didn't care. There was nowhere he belonged anymore if there ever was to beginning with. Him being raised by his races mortal enemy then to choose them over his own, even going as far as to slay his entire home world in order to prove himself to Odin. He felt utterly weightless as he fell through the cosmos. At least until he fell closer to the wormhole leading to Jotunhem where it seemed like some kind of gravitational force pulled him through. The two on the bridge shared heartbroken expressions as Loki seemed lost forever. A father had lost a son and Thor had lost his brother.

"Goodbye.." Loki let out with his last breath and faded into oblivion. 'I guess this is the end for me, oh well at least I had a good run.' A slight smile grew on his face, after all this was his legacy ever since he was born. He was destined to perish.

He watched as his once known home grew farther and farther away. The sight of it now stinging his eyes yet he refused to let them close. Asgard quickly became a spec in his vision, the cold of space forever pleading with him to shut it out. A part of him was afraid of that, all he knew was gone. A single tear worked its way from his partially open lid and streaked down his cheek. Whether it was out of heartbreak or the dry emptiness of space it was unknown. I suppose it was a mixture of the two.

It felt his body depriving of oxygen and growing weaker by the second. For a moment he panicked but in the end he figured why even bother. His eyes remained open as his once pale skin reverted back to its natural blue hue. His eyes no longer blood shot but engulfed in red. He drifted further and further amongst the stars and debris from the once unbreakable bridge. His head throbbed something fierce, he could feel himself slipping and is vision getting spottier.

There was a light above which casted rays of auroral vividness engulfing him. It blinded him, going from the black nothingness of space to a blaring brightness. He could hear something almost like a whisper. Someone was calling for him and for a moment the only thing he thought of was his brother shouting his name with his deep glass shattering voice. Perhaps it was loud enough to pierce this space but it was statistically impossible.

Maybe his imagination was getting the best of him after all. But he still heard a voice, it seemed to be a higher pitch than Thor whether he was calling to him or not. It was a soft famine tone that seemed to come out of nowhere. His eyes darted at nothing, the light blocking out every little sight around him. It didn't really matter however his vision let alone his awareness were fading fast.

"Loki.." Now he defiantly heard something it was faint but it was his name that someone was calling. He blinked and the image of a dark haired woman appeared in front of him, her face was blurred but she was there. How and why he had no idea but he didn't question it much. Anything was better than nothing, even if it was just a figment created by his troubled mind it was meant to comfort him in some way and she did.

His lips formed the words 'who are you' without a simple sound ever leaving his cracked lips. She couldn't be able to hear him even if she was real. She motioned closer, finally able to let Loki get a good look of her face. She carried a bright smile that would even out shine the overbearing light above them and she looked eerily familiar. Her eyes were light green and full of life. Long dark kinky hair draped along her shoulders and was worn up in a high pony tail. Perhaps as a last ditch effort to contain what seemed like unmanageable locks.

She opened her mouth again to speak but the words that were uttered were some his imagination would never conjure up. He was able to hear her voice when she spoke, it was sweet and soothing like silk but her words nearly made him feel the polar opposite. In a way like he was on the verge of breaking once more over.

"I'm your mother, Loki."

His eyes widened and burned in disbelief, this was not a possibility. There was no way out in the middle of nowhere this mystery woman could be his former guardian. His head pounded harder to the point of exasperation and lack of oxygen further disabling his vision and no more tears to quench his drying eyes they quickly worked their way closed. He drifted once again into the distant oblivion of his subconscious as he shut out the world around him and the woman.

"Remember.."

 _It was near the end of the war between the Frost Giants and Asgardians, it seemed like all is at a loss for Jotunhem and their maniacal reign of terror would soon come to an end. The little frozen over ball of dirt would once again recognize peace. But somewhere beyond the far reaches of the battlefield resided the tyrant king and a lowly woman. A small child nuzzled in her arms as she paced back and forth before the colossal man. Laufey watched with beady red eyes her strut with ferocity in every step. Anger worked it's on his features before he spoke._

" _I don't care where it came from, it's an abomination get rid of it. It is nothing more than a product of war and a slave wrench._ _"_

" _How could you say such things? It is your son! You think I intentionally wanted to bear a child to you, because if you did you would be sorely mistaken. You are a cruel uncaring man and you will get what you deserve. How could you even call yourself a king when you would openly abandon such an innocent creature that has no means of protecting itself? How do you expect to fight with that same ideal? Without heart you can never expect to be victorious._ _"_

 _Laufey struck the prideful woman standing her ground, child in hand. Although her cheek swelled and grew red in pigment, her expression never faltered. She turned her head back around to face her assailant and looked as if she was about to spit back in his face but held down the urge. She narrowed her brow before speaking once again._

" _You know what Laufey you will lose this war. A king without emotion could never bend the will his own troops let alone care for his own flesh and blood. You are an idiotic king and you will fall at the foot of Asgard._ _"_

" _Why do you care so much for the child of the so called king you hate so much?"_

" _He is mine and he is beautiful even if he shares the same blue hue as you monsters. No matter his blood he is of Asgard just as I am."_

" _Glad you're willing to do so much for the product of someone you despise." He said before moving closer to the woman, if looks could kill hers would have disintegrated him by now._

" _Go to hell Laufey." She said in a venomous tone, the latter only smiling in retort before strolling out of the room, slamming the door as he exited. Her expression softened, all of the tension seemed to leave with Laufey. She glanced down at the infant snuggling in her arms and smiled. In her eyes he was perfect; a healthy, beautiful baby boy whom appeared so trusting and innocent was almost too much for her. It wouldn't be easy for him, being the product of cruelty and near hatred._

 _But she was determined to protect her child with her very life, even if the world turned its back on him. He was so small and fragile almost the opposite of a Frost Giant, is little eyes hadn't even opened yet. A content smile remained on his face as she slowly rocked him back in his arms. She placed a light kiss on his forehead. He shuttered as the unexpected contact and repositioned himself, nuzzling further into her._

" _You are mine Loki, and you are precious. Always remember that mommy loves you."_

Loki woke up on the floor of an unknown vessel gasping for breath, his head continued to pound even with the return of oxygen in his lungs. For moment he lied there, allowing his strength to return to his still form. His subconscious thoughts faded in his waking form, the dream became that just a dream. It grew more distant now being replaced by the suddenly new environment. He cracked his eyes open slightly, attempting to place a picture to the cold metal floor and artificial atmosphere. 'Where?..'

He was alone in a little room. It was barren, no windows or nothing just a little solid box with a small almost invisible camera hidden in the corner. It focused on the stirring man slowly picking himself off the floor. He propped himself up with his arms however weak they may be.

His eyes remained unfocused. He blinked rhythmically in order to alter his vision. He huffed deep breathes in order to keep himself from hyperventilating. An unknown place could really make someone fall into a panicked state. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as seemingly falling to their deaths and suffocating in utter nothingness. The room was chilly and smelled faintly of decay, the scent burned his nostrils.

He was able to force himself to a sitting position and tired to calm his heavy breathing. This allowed his eyes some time to focus on his surroundings. He wondered what in the world was causing that foul stretch. It seemed like a box or actually more along the means of a cage. There was nothing else in the room other than his own warm body.

The wall farthest from him was covered in very distinguishable blood. It coated part of the floor and seemed to spray along the side up to the ceiling. He could imagine the force needed to drive such heavy sprays up against the wall. Someone must have really hated whoever else was in here before him. From the looks of it they just about decapitated someone with the force to drive a homerun and then some.

"I see you're awake now. That's good to know. I would hate to see someone like you floating lifelessly suspended amongst the stars. Not a single breath left in their body. It does seem to be a very pleasant way to go." A voice spoke softly but with power behind it. The sound made Loki nervous. To wake up in a strange place greeted by someone unknown, who has yet to show themselves, was not a situation you'd like to find yourself in.

"Who are you? I demand to know where I am!" He tired with whatever strength he had left to sound like a threat, because his voice didn't allow the desired effect.

"Oh you demand it I see. Well little prince you lost your right to boss around when you lost your home, now stand up!" The deep voice seemed to resonate out of nowhere shaking Loki to his core. Thick like tar and venomous, his voice seemed to force its way through his very being.

"Please will you tell me where am I?" Loki paused for a moment and thought it best to complied with his demands at least for the time being. He thought perhaps maybe it wasn't a great idea to agitate the man who could turn him into another painting on the wall. He put his fist to the ground and heaved himself to his feet. His knees were weak and barely about to sustain his weight but he managed to keep from collapsing. He hated to listen to anybody he distasted but in this moment he had no other choice.

"Well I'd like to say you're safe now aboard my humble ship. If it weren't for my keen eye you would have died out there." In a way he didn't believe a word he spoke. There was a certain luster in his voice although muffled as it may be that made him nervous.

"So are you implying I own you something in return? A life dept as it may." He words came out harsher than intended, but it made no difference. He knew exactly where this conversation was going and he didn't like the sound of it one bit. Let alone he has yet to lay eyes upon his so-called 'savior'. All of this was beginning to feel way too familiar. He'd done it in his past to several unlikely souls to have crossed his path, likely in the need of saving. In this day and age you can't get something from nothing.

The voice remained silent which was all the answer he needed. It was obvious he was only kept alive for what usefulness he had, whether he would obey or not. He uttered a few extra words due to curiosity. Against his better judgment that is. He never used to ask question he didn't completely want to know the answer to, but in this case he had to put a picture to the voice. "Who are you?

A door that blended in with one of the walls unhitched and opened in what seemed like slow motion. Light flowed into the room like a waterfall which washed out the dim lighting around him. A colossal sized man stepped closer to the door frame, barley letting his face show. What he did see was a man twice the size of any Frost Giant he'd seen as well as double the bulk. The only feature he could clearly distinguish was the massivity of his feet, seeming as if crushing bone was as easy as breaking glass. "You can call me a friend. But you may address me as Lord Thanos."

"And you would be correct. I do have a little task I'd you to complete. I would like for you to go to the pathetic planet by the name of Earth and retrieve an item know as the tesseract for me. I promise whatever you desire." Loki's eyes fixed on the large man as he witnessed him flash a crooked smile and narrowed his eyes as if he was claiming an order. He didn't know who he was. Why should he listen to anything this stranger had to say?

He remained quiet for a moment, allowing his sudden request to sink in. Did he just say Earth? As in the mortal world his brute brother had become so fond of. Why would he ever in a millennium think about going there? He refused the task he'd been given. After all he was not one to run errands unless I'd be for his own benefit or that of Asgard. This could only bring an adverse effect and cause unwanted trouble.

The others face seemed to morph into that of rage. His features tightened and vessels in his eyes seemed to pop at Loki's refusal. He lurched towards him and grabbed his shirt, hoisting him in the air so he could meet his face. He glared into his unexpected eyes as he dangled from his grasp. It was a surprise to him how short his fuse was. Which he probably shouldn't agitate him too much considering that lovely mural on the wall.

"You will do as I ask. Or I'll have to persuade you to. I'll warn you it's a lot easier to obey over your own free will." His words made it seem like a promise. He probably had the ability to back it up too. At this point he didn't even care. He left everything behind. The life he knew for his entire existence was gone. He didn't belong anywhere anymore and he sure as hell wasn't about to become someone else's slave. He would rather die than do someone else's bidding.

Loki spit in his colossal purple face which seemed to shock him even more than his initial refusal. He was encompassed in absolute rage. The hand down at his side balled into a fist that itself seemed capable of crushing skulls. He thrust it into Loki's abdomen; a loud crunch resonated throughout the tiny room, light whimpers followed soon after. Then blood. He assailant smiled at his handy work and let the prince fall to the ground in a heap. He gripped his ribs best he could, considering he was faced down on the floor.

"I have an idea. Why don't you sit on it for a little while. Or better yet lay on it. Perhaps you'll come to your senses." With that he left the room, allowing the door to slam shut and lock once more. The lights flickered for a moment before dimming even darker. He was once again in solitude but this time in cringing pain.

He cursed under his breath before rolling to his side, sending a jolt of pain through his chest. That one hit, that one insignificant little punch broke 4 of his ribs. He groaned as he felt the misshapen lower half of his chest. It burned. All he could do was wait for the feeling to pass long enough so he could be able to set them back into place. The last thing he needed was crooked ribs, but it really didn't matter. Nothing did anymore. He knew the type of people he'd been captured by, merciless and cruel. This was only the beginning of the end and he knew it.

No matter what he would never go against his ideals. How he'd been raised. In a way he didn't quite understand why he still believed in what he did. The Asgardian way when he was never even Asgardian. Either way he was no slave. He would likely meet his end on the ship at the hand of some purple freak but that was ok. At least on the bright side Thor thought him dead so he wouldn't be looking for him. After all he wouldn't want to be a burden on anyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

"After all we've done for you and this is how you repay us, with your insolence. We pulled you out of space. We were the one who saved your pathetic little life. You owe us."

"I don't owe you shit. You should have just left me to die. I will never submit to what you want, especially if it involves innocent people."

"Oh so the lost prince has a soft spot for life. I'm not surprised since there wouldn't be a kingdom without any subject. But I'll tell you this. How is any of them supposed to know whose boss if you don't remind them every now and again." He reached over and grabbed the throat of one of the Chitauri guards and squeezed it until he was prying at his fingers. Even then he did not let go and squeezed until there was no more breath in his body. Once he stopped wriggling he snapped his neck and let him hit the floor. "After all you attempted to annihilate your entire face over your false one, how hypocritical."

"You do not know me."

"Oh but I do Loki, that's the beauty of it. I know you better than you know yourself. You could learn a thing or two from me. Who knows I might even let you take that pathetic little planet you hold so dear. But only if you comply with my demands."

"You know what Thanos; I think you're scared to invade yourself. In fact I think you're pissing your pants right now just thinking about it. That's why you're trying so hard to 'convince me', because you're pathetic, nothing more than some bully who hides in the shadows. But I'll have you know that your scare tactic won't work on me, so beat me into oblivion like the rest of these pathetic bustards before me. I don't care; I have no more use for this life."

"That's good to know."

Loki lay in a growing pool of his own blood, courtesy of Thanos. It was a punishment for openly him yet again. Although he liked to call it being taught a lesson for not doing what would be in his best interest. Never in a million years will Loki ever listen to a tyrant like him. He sooner die than be forced against his will. In a way it seemed like he might eventually get what he wished for. The man was relentless when infuriated, it didn't matter who you were or where you came from. He never hesitated a single blow, he was relentless. It was almost like some sort of sick game. Perhaps he was trying to see if instead of blood spewing from his mouth candy would fly out. Like Loki was some sort of over sized piñata that if you hit him hard enough you'd win a prize.

The only prize Thanos got out of him was the pained screams from his victim. It was music to his ears. The blood curdling cries to no one, the sound of bones crushing beneath his boot, the crimson liquid that seemed to stain the filthy room and pool on the floor around him. To him it was pure serenity.

Loki could barely make out the sounds around him as his head flooded with dizziness. Let alone be able to place the rhythmic stomping of heavy feet as they left his cell. Leaving him crumpled up all alone in the dark once again. Unable to move his body he remained motionless against the cold stone floor of his little cell. His head was swimming but the same thought raced back and forth in his fading consciousness, 'why me?'

'How did I end up here? Is this what I deserved, a twist of fate for someone of my wickedness.' You could call it self-pitying but he was finding himself asking that question more and more. Whether it was loathing over his misfortune or that his entire life had been the same kind of merciless pity. Perhaps never existing wouldn't have been so bad. It would have saved him a ton of pain in the end. It would have been a whole hell of a lot better than living day to day without a purpose. Let alone a place where he belonged.

He made a minor effort to pry himself onto the thin mattress placed in the corner of the room. The stress on his body hung over him, ultimately regretting the subtle movements. As the adrenaline slowly dissipated, the pain settled in. Needles danced on his skin, it seemed even a bat of an eye would poise agony. He paused and allowed his body to once again settle on the hard floor in a crumpled mess.

His nails clasped onto anything they could grasp. He clawed at his side in a last ditch effort to relive some of the tension, finding it more trivial than helpful. He gave in and embraced the floor completely. His head pounded furiously against the coldness of the stone. His breathing was labored; every so often a soft wheeze escaped his parted lips. His vision was unfocused and useless at this point so he closed his eyes and rested.

He wondered how long he'd been down there. Day after day he endured the same treatment. He had lost time long ago; the constant lights had warped his mind and all sense of perception. The days were beginning to blur together. He thought maybe had been a few weeks or perhaps a couple of months. At least long enough for his hair to grow to his shoulders in a tangled mess.

Thanos was a tyrant who repeated beat him, day in and day out. There were slicing along his malnourished flesh, carved with various torture devices. Deep cuts shone down the length of his back, along with several clean stabs and burn marks. Being of frost giant decent, heat was damn unbearable. His left side had been cauterized while a good majority of rest of his body has been bruised and lacerated.

Oh how much he wanted to just curl up and disappear from the world. In a way he figured this was what he deserved. I guess you could say this was a cruel justice for attempting to murder your own kind for the sake of someone who allegedly hated them as well as what you've become. He had prayed for death after his failure. With no place he belonged, it was the only thing that honestly brought his mind to peace. But the day he drifted he only ended up in a different kind of hell. It was oppressive. This kind of pain was something he wouldn't wish upon even the hardest of war criminals.

He coughed, sending a mouthful of blood spraying out down his cheek and to the ground at his side. A callous feeling rippled within him through his rib cage, which was more or less shattered in pieces. In a way he hoped that a stray piece of bone would pierce his heart and end it for him. End his suffering and let him die. Knowing him he would never be that lucky. The universe wanted him to feel everything and come out of it just so he could endure it over and over again.

"Please end it.." Loki's voice trembled and cracked from hours of strictly being used to whimper and scream blood curdling cries.

He could break his bones and send rivers of blood cascading down his skin, but no matter what happens that animal could never break his will. He'd retained that mind set for a while. But no matter how tough you claim to be, anything remotely close to the caliber of what he'd endured will tear you down. He'd sooner die than follow him. With the direction he was headed he'd get his wish soon or later. He figured it wouldn't be so bad.

Blood ran from the wounds littering his body. Thanos tore his shirt to shreds while beating him, soiled pieces draped across his worn body. He claimed it gave him better access to his bare back. He clawed at him, slashed him with whatever he could find; medical apparatuses, dull blades which needed the momentum to be forced through his flesh. He stomped on him with his over sized hoof of a foot breaking who knows how many bones.

It was almost a chore simply to breathe. Fighting every urge to cough for fear his windpipe would be held in a death grip like a few moments ago. Thanos nearly squeezed the life out of it right before pummeling him into submission. A mix of blood and saliva ran out of his mouth. His hair was plastered to his face, held there by gash on his temple and sweat.

He wriggled slightly until the full effect of his injuries had set in, making it near impossible to bare. His breathing became slower and heavy in his lungs, head thudding as his mind lulled as his broken body mended with the floor. Wet, cold, and unable to move a mere few feet to the corner; the once skilled and admirable prince was nothing more than a pathetic shred of his former self, lying on a filthy floor, never again to see natural light again.

He felt himself slipping further. His eyes rolled back in his head as the exhaustion settled. The cold radiating from the floor felt comforting. He never had a problem with cold; although he regretted his origins he still enjoyed the freezing weather. Now all he had to settle for was this dirty floor and poor air circulation, but that was enough. At least for him it was.

"How's his progress?" A raspy voice sounded from behind a motherboard. The control room was filled with miscellaneous monitors and flashing lights. Buttons littered the surface of every table and part of the wall. More disturbing than the poor lighting which tricked your perception was the other side of the window. It's picture a crumbled up man making no more movement than shallow, barely visible breaths.

"Stagnant as usual, I'm afraid I might bust him up a little too much. The last thing I need is for my trump card to be beaten to the point he's unrecognized." Thanos said, stepping into the shadowed room. He let the door swing shut with a thud. The only light produced in the room came from the small portal to Loki's jail cell.

"What do you suppose we do my Lord?" A strange man stood from his place behind to controls and bowed to Thanos. With his arms out stretched you could notice the purple pigment in his skin as well as the addition of an extra set of thumbs. He waited for the tyrant, just barley rivaling him in size, to give him an answer.

"It's time, fetch me the stone." He spoke in a menacing tone and the hooded creature in front of him rose from his seat grinned a placid smile and walked out of the room without another word.

Hours passed as the beaten prince remained motionless on the floor, utterly drenched in blood and filth. The trousers he'd worn since his arrival were in tatters and soiled with dirt and his own blood.

He slowly rustled himself back to consciousness although it would probably be easier to drift off back into nothingness than to feel the overwhelming pain. He knew something had to be done whether if it was to move a couple feet to the corner or look for a way out if that was at all possible.

He was pretty sure his back was broken. Most of his ribs and his arm had met a similar fate, all bent out of shape and twisted. His skin was a near translucent pale and coated in flakey brown as the blood dried. Some of his wounds had clotted and stopped bleeding but the few that had been cut deeper continued to flow.

He felt like he was going to be sick. The smell itself was that of vomit and decay. There were bones on the far side from where his head was settled; easy to say it was Thanos' victim prior to himself. His vision was slowly returning and he could see the busted through skull as it lye turned over against the wall. He'd overlooked the room multiple times and he always wondered about the ones who came before him. The occasional question surfaced in his head. Will this be me one day and how long from now will that be?

For a moment he felt fear, an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since his foster father he told him stories of war when he was a child. Monsters that had slain many of his people or at least what he once thought were his people. He shivered from the atmosphere of the room almost like it weighed on him and the amount of blood he now lay in.

After while he felt like he was able to lift his head a little, wondering if he could pick his broken body up off the floor. He figured it was worth a try. Working his one good arm up underneath himself he heaved with whatever strength he could manage. He probably elevated a few inches off the ground before giving up and embracing the hard surface once more in a huff.

He gasped for air through his barely functioning lungs as his busted ribs took the impact. Unwilling he let of a whimper in pain.

Every part of him ached and cracked with each subtle move. He figured he'd be spending the night on the floor.

The next day Thanos came to see Loki for a last time. His pawn lay faced down on the floor while the door creaked slowly open, the body didn't stir for a second. Heavy steps echoed around as he entered the room. He stepped in and held the door as he starred at man. The wounds covering his body were raw and cuts just barely clotting. His bones unset and disfigured covering in festering burns.

Loki held the ability to heal at an excessive rate but it still had a limit. For the most part the bleeding has stopped. He was weak and his body was close to shutting down entirely. His will was faltering, his bones were broken and his time was nearing an end. "You're not blue yet.." Thanos said referring to the frost giant's natural state. In live but especially in death. No answer or movement was made.

"You know it was cruel what those Asgardians did to you. Disowning your notions and betraying your ideals and trust like it was nothing. They abandoned you in space leaving your fate to whatever lay ahead. To your death, it was just wrong." Thanos let out rhythmically.

Soft laughter could be heard coming underneath the heap of flesh known as Loki. It was evident that he's finally gone mad. He's ascended past the limit, that or is well past the point of caring. He fought everything so far. There was the extensive amount of pain and anger, the will to care about his fate dissipated. Whether or not everything was fair or not, if his life held meaning? They'd long since lost faith in his beliefs. He had become accustomed to the feeling, casting it away as well as his pride.

"I suppose you know of cruel? You don't know me I'm just a center piece on display for you. You're a sick bastard so don't even try to be sentimental about it. Just get it over with already. I'm tired of waiting." He said from his place at his feet. The suspense was something he'd grown accustomed to. But he had long accepted his fate.

"Oh but what you don't understand is I do know. I know everything about you fallen prince. How you supposedly thought you of all people would inherit the thrown. Only to learn that you yourself were only a pawn in Odin's played out game of chess. A sacrificial piece saved for just the right moment. But you failed."

"Fuck you.. You have no idea about what I've been through." Loki retorted weakly, there was hardly enough strength to seem threatening.

"The only thing that refuses to slip my mind is the look on the blond one's face. Almost like his heart had been torn to shreds. It's haunting in a way. I'd hate to be responsible for such heartache." With these few simple words he drove back the vivid memories of that day. All of the pain still fresh as the day it happened. He forced himself off the ground into a cross between a sitting and a kneeling position. His jaw clenched tightly together, whether it was from the discomfort of moving or from the utter shock of the words that escaped the others parted lips.

Loki's face softened as he glared at the man. Subtle tears forming in his eyes before he spoke. His voice trembled in sorrow with a hint of anger leading to an explosion. "How do you know all of this... Tell me!"

"I have my methods. You could say I was able to reach into your mind and pull certain things to look at."

Loki remained quiet, attempting to prevent his obvious anger from surfacing once again. He hated this, his situation, everything that happened up to this point, and the fact that he couldn't do anything about it.

"I can blatantly see that you hate me, which is understandable. I'll tell you what if you're able to stand I'll give you the chance to kill me. I'll even do you one better. I'll give you a weapon. If you can strike me you will be able to return to Asgard."

An alien appeared behind Thanos with an odd looking spear in hand. He offered it to his master before nodding and disappearing behind him once more. It shone bright with an ominous blue. It lightened up the little dark room and played on Loki's senses, mainly his curiosity.

But for the most part his mind was directed to how exactly he knew all about him. Only things witnessed by few he knew about. Whether how he found out wasn't what bothered him. The fact that he knew something that personal infuriated him. He was not some open book left out for anyone to read. He had his demons and they were meant to be locked away safe in his head. Not exploited.

Thanos noted the anger growing inside of him. He finally figured out the fuel to his fire. He narrowed his brow before tossing the spear into the room. It chattered slightly against the floor then settled a foot away from the prince.

Loki's face was hidden beneath a shroud of dark hair. He stared at the weapon before him and by this point he didn't care about anything anymore. Whether it was about freedom or death anything would be better than this constant routine of torture.

He lurched forward and grasped the spear with whatever reserves he had left.

Thanos chanted some unknown language under his breath; Loki was too out of it and neglected to acknowledge his surroundings as he thrust the weapon towards him, aimed for his chest. But suddenly he found himself unable to move. His knees hit the ground and his fingers continued to curl around the staff of the spear as it slowly lowered to the floor. His eyes widened, the feeling of paralysis flowing within his stiff muscles.

He frantically searched for what could be the cause of this. He remained knees planted in the ground, weapon in hand but at rest. Light blue ran through the veins on his arms all the way up and pulsed along with the stone embedded in the spear. Bleeding into the vessels in his neck and flushing into his eyes. His pupils dilated as he looked hazily past Thanos.

"What's happening to me.." He uttered lightly through a clenched jaw.

Thanos shifted his weight before cracking open his mouth to speak. In a nicer tone than usual he muttered the most terrifying thing he'd heard since being held captive. "The wait is over. I'm glad you're willing to desist and offer your service." He flashed his yellow teeth at the man practically kneeling at the others feet.

His newly blue tinted eyes glared up at the tyrant, as he forced a nod. His body betrayed his every will and awaited another command. This was an odd feeling, almost like being on strings. There was vast pressure placed on his lungs that prevented them from expanding to their full capacity like his breathing with being controlled. This left his fatigued and weaker then he was, he was completely vulnerable.

It's funny it wasn't like he couldn't feel; he felt everything else. The thing is he couldn't do anything about it. He could still feel the coldness of the blood running down his skin like rainwater. There was the burning of his raw flesh harboring fresh wounds. The heavy pulsating in his head from the strain under his body was even more unbearable now.

His vision faded again at the worst possible moment. He needed to know what was happening. He couldn't have heard him right; the wait is over, glad you're willing to submit. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' He pried his eyes away from Thanos and winched at the weapon heavy in his grip. 'The spear, it has to be the spear, there's no other logical explanation.'

Thanos gave a gesture to one of the subordinates through the one way mirror. Within a couple minutes two men enter carrying strange equipment and a stretcher. Loki didn't pay any attention to the lot of them as they swarmed by him, avidly prepping the area. He was tired and the fight had drained out of him, stolen through his fingertips.

His fate has been decided and it torn him down inside, he didn't want to believe it. He lifted his head his fading green eyes gazed up, at the blurry figure hovering over him; the color in his iris slowly blending into a lighter aqua. With a lunge Thanos was down to his level, face to face with Loki, his soulless eyes blacking out any ray of hope left for him. He cracked another composure shattering grin before whispering something under his breath to his slave.

"Don't fight it, you know you'll lose and in more ways than one. Morals and those you care about. We will talk again, but for now prepare yourself for what is to come." With that he waited to see whatever fear that was left within Loki flush, right before he drew back and cracked his forehead against the others.

Loki's eyes widened at the impact and rolled back in his head as he flew back. He hit the floor out cold still bleeding out on the floor. The spear chattered on the ground once again. Thanos rose to full height, dropped his grin and stepped out the room. His minions carefully wrapped him up, placed him on the stretcher and carried him to some unknown destination.


	5. Notice

Before I finish and post the 5th chapter I will be revising the first couple chapter. I glad to see that there are a few people out there who are interested in this story. I have much planned for this fanfic and it has to potential to be told better than it already has. I want it all to flow together flourishing into a cause and effect pattern. I welcome any constructive criticism and ideas, personally stories or just to say you enjoyed it. For those of you who feel it wasn't up to your standards sorry I'll try better next go round.


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